Customer(s) O' the Night #472 & 473: The Salesmen

So the other night I got to work at the usual time. The happy hour bartender was finishing up, and there were three guys sitting at the bar. The band was soundchecking. The guys at the bar were louder than the band, they were drunk, and I already knew they sucked.
I tried my best to avoid them, assuming that they were probably done drinking and that when they saw that the bartender was leaving they might pay up and leave. No such luck. When they waved for another round, I reluctantly obliged. Two of them were obviously more drunk than the other guy. They all had drinks in front of them. They tried to order more but were busy arguing and calling each other pussies so I slipped away. One of them went and got food. Fabulous. For the record, I don't mind when people bring food into the bar, but spreading it all over the bar and smelling up the joint is gross. And when drunk people bring food in, they invariably make a giant mess and leave their trash on the bar. It's offensive to me, it's gross for the other customers, and it's fucking rude. If we're not making money on that food, we shouldn't have to deal with it. Anyway, one of the guys was apparently playing in one of the bands that night, so I couldn't very well ask him to leave. I just waited for them to finish eating, cleaned up their shit, and silently thanked the gods when they finally went away. They sat on the other side of the club, so after about ten minutes I completely forgot about them.
It didn't get very busy that night due to the weather (or rather, due to the threat of weather, which is enough to keep people indoors in these parts). The first band was good- not my thing, but good at what they do, and I wished like hell that more people were there to see them. They seemed a little disappointed, but honestly I was surprised that anyone was there at all, and I told them as much later on. Anyway, right at the end of their set, the lead singer says
"This one is for those two guys."
I looked over and realized that the drunk assholes from earlier were both sound asleep, sittng just a few yards away from the stage. Fuck.
I motioned to one of the door guys. My plan was to wait until the band was finished and get rid of the guys. I didn't want to do it while the band was playing because I thought it was an unnecessary distraction on an already fairly dismal night. The door guy informed me that he had already kicked the two guys out earlier, and that they had been obnoxious to both him and the happy hour bartender. Apparently they had told him to go fuck himself because he asked for their IDs. Nice.

"So why are they here?"

"S let them back in."

"Why the fuck would he do that? Did you tell him what they said to you?"

"Yeah. They told him to fuck off, too."

""Great. We'll make S kick them out. Please send him in."

I asked S what the fuck was going on.

"I know they're assholes. My plan was to take their money for the bands and then kick them out."

"Well I can see that went swimmingly."

"."

"Stay here. When the band is done, we're kicking them out."

The band finished, and I took a metal bottle opener and an empty plastic pitcher and headed straight for the drunk guys. They were seated about five feet apart, so I positioned myself between them and started banging on the pitcher with the opener, as hard as I could, right between their heads. The rest of the people in the crowd laughed and clapped.

"Time to go!! Wake Up!!!"

They didn't move. S came over and shined a large flashlight into their eyes. One of them finally stirred. The other guy fell over. The friend (remember him, from earlier? the less drunk one?) rushed over, explaining that he was their ride, imploring me to leave them alone. I explained that they couldn't sleep in the bar. He pleaded with me to leave them alone. He had to sing, he explained, then he would take them home. I relented. in the meantime, the second band was setting up. I watched as the now awake jackass and the singer argued all the way out the front door. The other guy was still asleep. The one asshole left. I walked up to the singer as he came back in. I explained that his friend was acting like an asshole, and that it was really uncool for them to be passed out and why. He apologized. He said the guy was an arrogant asshole. I asked him why he was friends with an arrogant asshole.
"You must know each other from way back," I said, thinking how many people I knew that I put up with only because I had known them for so long.

"Nope. We work together. He's an arrogant jackass."

"Really? And why do you feel obligated to hang out with this arrogant jackass from work?"

"Because I'm an arrogant jackass, too."

"And where do you work?"

"Hyund@i of Athens."

"Ah."

The singer was actually only a singer, and not even the main one. He sang on approximately two songs, then stayed for the rest of the set. Afterward, I got to watch him try to steer the passed out guy out of the bar. The passed out guy was easily eight inches taller and outweighed him by at least seventy pounds. I only wish I had seen them getting in the car.